


Becalmed

by Techmaturgics



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, hinted established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 01:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Techmaturgics/pseuds/Techmaturgics
Summary: A short fic about Pyke visiting Sarah when she has a nightmare.





	Becalmed

**Author's Note:**

> My partner and I have been musing on these two for a long while and I sort of just broke and wrote this messy and quick thing. I love these two. I don't think the two of them would work out normally, but here I am with my 101 different au ideas for these two bicons. 
> 
> This fic is based on the idea that Sarah and Pyke knew each other before Pyke's death and were at one point lovers who met on and off whenever Pyke came back to the mainland from working as a harpooner.

Fire, hot and painful scorching her skin. She could feel it burning her alive, eating her. She gasped for breath but found none. She reached out but found nothing to cling to. A sharp, piercing pain stabbed into her left shoulder, memories of being shot there as a child resurfaced in hazy, foggy waves. The man standing over her with his bright red bandanna. Eyes burning with mocking laughter. 

Hate. 

Sarah felt hate and pain wrap their clawed fingers around her mind. Insanity threatened to shatter her. But she would not budge, just barely hanging on by a thread. She heard his laughter, the crass and terrible sound making her sick. 

_Gangplank_ , she had sworn, _I will kill you_. 

Sarah awoke. 

Sweat drenched and gasping. She lie limp in her bed, the sheets soaked with her own sweat and tears. Her head dropped to the side, off her pillow. She lie there, feeling the wetness across her skin begin to dry in the coolness of the air. Her eyes slowly slipped across the room where they met another pair, glowing wickedly in the darkness of her cabin. 

The outline of a hooked, jagged blade shone in the moonlight that peeked through the crack in the curtains that hung behind her desk against a large window. The candle she had lit at her bedside was nearly gone in a pile of melted wax. The flame flickered and shimmied, trying to not die out. With the little light it provided in the largeness of her cabin she could see the red bandanna covering the man’s face, different than the one Gangplank had worn when he murdered her family. She didn’t know whether or not she was relieved. 

White in the design of sharp teeth was stitched into the bloody red fabric and she knew it wasn’t a fallen pirate king that haunted her, but something else. Whether or not it was worse than that, she couldn’t decide right now. 

A long time passed between them and by the time Sarah caught her breath and calmed the pounding of her heart she realized she felt empty and cold. She had felt that way for a long, long time. Nights like this when she had nightmares only made it all the more noticeable. 

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked the phantom being sitting across the room, sharpening his harpoon. There was a moment of silence then the rough sound of his rumbling voice filled the void between them like leaking water. 

“Not yet,” he said. Sarah wasn’t prepared for that answer, she rarely was. She smiled wearily. A soft, aching sorrow lodged itself within her rib cage. 

“Why did you come, Pyke?”

He didn’t respond for a while. He never did. He always was a man of few words, even while alive. Pyke set his harpoon down, let it lie against the wood planking of the wall. 

“Nightmares. You still have them.”

“Always, but not as often as before. Not since I blew that bastard sky high,” she replied quietly. She looked at him, his familiar features, the scars adorning his dark skin. She felt an ache go through her and she felt as though she couldn’t bear to look at him now, but she did. She kept looking at him. 

Whenever she had nightmares he was always there. In life and in death. She didn’t understand why but she was secretly thankful. Sarah was strong. No one could deny that. Rafen often said she was the strongest person he knew. But there were times when she would drink herself to sleep, nights where she struggled to fend herself from nightmares of the past and scars buried deep within her skin. 

Sarah watched him cross the room. She moved, shifted in the bed and made space for the strange being in her cabin.

“Do you still love me?” She asked. Pyke’s eyes grew heavy for a moment. He looked to be struggling to figure that out himself. He wasn’t alive anymore; they weren’t the same when they had loved each other once.

“I don’t know,” he said. Pyke wasn’t a liar. Sarah knew that and even in death, the insanity that the swimming city had bestowed upon her old lover didn’t change that. 

Did she still love him?

Sarah patted the open space on the bed, motioning for him to join her. He got in, boots and all. She didn’t care. She found it amusing. She felt his chest and found no beating where his heart would have been. He was cool to the touch. 

Did she still love him?

Yes, always. 

But things weren’t the same anymore. Most times she was unsure whether or not they would fight or talk whenever they met. However she welcomed the thought of him being the one to kill her. If she had to die to anyone, it would be her former lover and friend. Though of course she wouldn’t let that happen. She would go down kicking and fighting with every last inch of her life. 

If though, only if. 

“Are you going to sing to me a shanty?”

He peered down at her, wrapping an arm beneath her and holding her loosely by his side. Something about the way he looked at her reminded her of that summer they spent up in the northern islands of the isles with his mother. The hot, humid heat and the cool, spraying mist of the sea on their skin. He used to sing often while he worked the sails and ropes. 

“Do you want me to?” he asked. She grinned and rested her head against his chest, ghosting the bones of his ribs with her fingertips. Was it the illusion of his ghost that made them feel so real or something else? Was he real? Neither of them knew. Pyke had told her he wasn’t sure what he was, but he knew his purpose. He talked about a list but Sarah had never seen it. She was sure it was the madness of the swimming city playing with his mind.

“I do.”

She felt his large hand pat her head.

“Sleep. I’ll sing you something quieter.”

Sarah breathed deeply and closed her eyes. She felt vibrations spread across his chest as low words begin to escape him. She dreamed of nights by shoreline fires. Rafen laughing, drunk and cheerful. Pyke sat beside beside him, roasting meat upon the flames. She sat beside Pyke, cracking dirty jokes and asking him when was the next time he would leave for sea. When would he return? A half-empty bottle of rum sat between them and he looked at her with a smile. She didn’t get to hear his reply when the dream faded to darkness. 

She already knew the answer though.

She knew he would wouldn't come back.

Not as he was then.


End file.
